The engine roared like a beast under us, tearing through the dark Poitou backroads. Rain slicked the windshield, wipers slapping frantic. I was sprawled in the passenger seat, skirt hiked up, panties long gone. Jax’s hand gripped my thigh hard, fingers digging in as he floored it. In the back, Mia—barely 18, wild-eyed runaway like … Lire la suite
I was home alone, hubby out on a business trip, and these builders were tearing up our backyard patio all week. Sweat everywhere, hammers banging, that dusty concrete smell hanging in the air. I’m 27, you know? Curvy, long dark hair, always in these tiny shorts when it’s hot like this. Today, this one guy—tall, … Lire la suite
Oh man, I still can’t believe what went down last night at work. I’m Zoé, 27, top chambermaid at the Grand Paradisio, this swanky five-star hotel downtown. Usually, it’s all crisp sheets, fluffy towels, and rich assholes leaving tips. But yesterday? Shit flipped upside down. I pushed open the door to Suite 69—yeah, ironic, right?—after … Lire la suite
I swear, I still can’t believe it happened. I’m heading home from work, dead tired, pressing the button for that creaky old elevator in my apartment building. It’s one of those ancient ones, you know, with the rattling doors and that faint smell of dust and metal. Doors slide shut, and bam—there’s this guy already … Lire la suite
Okay, so picture this: I’m Zoé, 27, and last night I had this new girl from work over, Mia. She’s like 22, super cute, all innocent vibes but with these killer curves. We’d been out drinking, flirting harmlessly, and I was like, « Hey, come back to mine for a soak? My tub’s huge. » She giggles, … Lire la suite
I swear, I still can’t believe it happened. Last night at the Grand Paradisio’s new spa opening… total chaos. I’m Zoé, 27, and yeah, I live for this shit—hot, sweaty thrills that make your pussy throb. The place was packed, all steamy lights and that thick, musky vapor hitting your skin like a lover’s breath. … Lire la suite
I was typing away on my laptop last night, fingers flying over the keys in the dim glow of my bedside lamp. The room smelled like fresh sheets mixed with that musky hint of us from earlier—sweat and sex lingering in the air. I’d been writing this super steamy short story, you know, the kind … Lire la suite
I still can’t believe what happened last week. That short vacation was supposed to chill me out, but every time I close my eyes, I’m right back there—pushing open the door to Moby Dick bookstore for the first time. The bell jingled softly, like a secret whisper. Inside, it smelled like aged paper and leather … Lire la suite
I still feel his hands on me, like it just happened. God, it was last night, this guy I met at that dimly lit bar downtown. We locked eyes across the room—tall, rough around the edges, stubble shadowing his jaw, that smirk saying he knew exactly what he wanted. I was in a tight black … Lire la suite
I remember slipping into that médiathèque last Tuesday, the air thick with that musty book smell mixed with fresh coffee from the corner machine. I’m 27, and yeah, I was feeling bold—wearing this tiny red thong that rode up just right, hugging my ass like it owned it. Black skirt, short enough to tease if … Lire la suite